


A Matter of Time

by MajorAndMarquis



Category: American Revolution RPF, Turn (TV 2014), Turn: Washington's Spies, Washingtons spies
Genre: F/M, Multi, Other, Turn (2014), Turn AMC - Freeform, turn: washington's spies - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2020-08-20 01:48:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20219779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajorAndMarquis/pseuds/MajorAndMarquis
Summary: America won the war, but among the fight for freedom was a darker fight taking place in the shadows. Thinking it had all be resolved and buried, Anriette finds she has been pulled back into the fight. Set in the modern world, she finds herself face to face with people of her past under too familiar circumstances.





	1. Memory Spot

“I pray you bear me witness, that I meet my fate like a brave man”

He met his fate on October 2nd 1780. 

It has been 238 years, give or take. 

So the history records will tell you. Hanged by the neck until dead under the accusation of being a spy. There was of course truth to the accusation. One is not simply accused of being a spy without reason. I suppose it's easier than relating the truth in so prolific a historical event. The world already had its eyes on the events that were unfolding in the colonies. The audacity of a rabble group of farmers thinking that they could overpower the dominant sea of redcoats from across the sea. It had been a game of chess. For each attack there was a counter attack, a different tactic, another pseudonym. Once they had him in their hands well, they’d sealed a blow that would redefine the course the war took. But underneath all the warring, fighting, the secrecy and espionage there was another conflict that was playing among the shadows. 

That was how I became intrinsically linked. 

The lake was still, its waters barely fluttering in the cold wind that was pressing forward from the larger bay. There were very few places left in the country that allowed for such a moment of tranquility. It was a memory spot. That’s what I called them, those places that sent you back to a time before your own if you closed your eyes, the noises around you filling you with a nostalgia of a moment that had gone before you. There had been a lot more quiet back then, silence and emptiness. Sitting by the lake was a memory spot. I had spent many a lifetime trying to find similar spots, places to sit and take myself back and try to remember all that had occurred over those long years. The road I had walked had long since disappeared. It had been a simple track way between York City and Philadelphia, the one that the lobsterbacks had taken when they were fleeing Philadelphia. It had been a well walked road, one that I had taken many times when I had been under his employ. But it wasn’t the road that he had found me on.  
That had been back in York City.  
“Anriette?”  
I wondered whether I had managed to drift myself into a state of stasis, suspended in my memories so that I was able to hear his voice once again. It was a lot clearer than it had been any other time I’d found myself lost in my memories.  
“Anriette”  
Clearly it was more than just a memory. The voice beside me was too clear, too close for it to be conjured in my mind. Opening my right eye cautiously, unaware of what I would find beside me, I turned and saw the unclear outline of a face long forgotten.  
“Well damn”  
The figure sighed, watching as I kept my squinted eye focused on them before slowly opening my other eye to reveal the outline, shape and face of the figure that had taken a seat beside me on the bench that overlooked Lake Tappan.  
“Anriette really-”  
“It’s really you”  
Posture as confident as ever, legs crossed and hands sat loosely crossed over one another we he nodded at me stiffly.  
“It is-“  
“Prove it”  
“I beg your pardon”  
“You should”  
“Anriette?”  
“You should be begging for my pardon, but that will have to wait. Prove to me it’s really you”  
He seemed stunned for a moment, flummoxed as to what it was exactly he was meant to do.  
“If that is all Sir-“  
“Wait. Just...wait”  
His hand held my wrist and stopped me from walking past him. It certainly looked like him, sounded like him even if the influence and style of speaking during our time had left his voice and pronunciation.  
“I’m waiting”  
His free hand rose to his throat where his coat collar and a scarf sat nestled, his other remained sealed round my wrist as if not trusting that I would stay there with him.  
“There”  
Scarf removed and the buttons of his shirt unfastened, the clear lines that wrapped around his throat became clear. Once purple in colour, they were now faded to a silvery white, the edges red, like scars that have become healed and welted.  
“Is that enough for you?”  
“I suppose there aren’t many people in the world that can say they’ve got the scars to prove they survived a hanging”  
His unamused expression hadn’t changed. Still the same cold eyes and tense jaw. Well, now that the niceties were done.  
“Why have you called me here Major?”  
“Major. I wasn’t aware we were using rankings again-“  
“I think that given the circumstances, formalities are required-“  
“Anriette-“  
“No one has called me that for a couple of centuries now, though I suppose there aren’t many left from a couple of centuries ago”  
His hum of agreement seemed grave, as if the realization was settling with us both as to just how much time had truly passed.  
“So” turning to face him as he refastened his collar, clearly self conscious of the marks on his skin, he looked up at me with the same intelligent blue eyes that had first drawn me to him.  
“Why exactly have you called me here and after all this time- time I should mention, I thought you buried-“  
“I am sorry-“  
“I had to survive you know, there weren’t many options available, avoided the holy land, you remember in York city?”  
He nodded, of course he remembered that place, that was where he had found people willing to work for him.  
“I found work as a spy funnily enough-“  
“I heard you turned-“  
“No I simply took the chance when it was presented. See it was all well and good for your lover in Philadelphia, married to a brute she might have been but she had her security and story, I however was left in the middle of the game we started and had to somehow find myself out the other side alive. They asked, I took. Simple. They won, though I suppose you know that-“  
“If you wish to be angry at me then I will take that at some point, but there is a more pressing matter at hand. Something that I think might be of interest to you”  
I kept my silence for a moment curious as to what it was that had caused him to search for me after all these years, why at that moment he decided to reveal that he was still alive.  
“What could you possibly offer me-“  
“The chance for revenge, surely that appeals to you after all this time?”  
Tempting. Perhaps unsurprising.  
“I’ve had my revenge over the years, I’d dare say that we are two of the few remaining. All the others are gone. So I fear you’ve misjudged this one Major. Though I am glad to see that you escaped the noose... if only just”  
I had assumed when I watched him hang, that should we ever meet again, that I would find myself unable to speak and therefore hang on every word that he spoke. Yet in that moment, facing him once more and seeing the livid marks on his neck it only proved to awaken a deep sense of anger towards him. Walking away was easier than I had anticipated and my feet didn’t feel heavy as I made my way back towards the path that had led me to the meeting point. 

Tappan, New York.

The place that he had met his end had formed to become a town. The old 76 house where he had been kept the night before his execution was now a diner but of course made a point of highlighting its significance. One of the very few places that actually mentioned his name. That and the large memorial stone that had been placed in commemoration. Even had the hill and street named after him. At one point he would have been flattered, perhaps even charmed by such an honour. It was sweet enough, with its authentic interior seemingly a calling point to all those who were interested in the history of the place. It had been called Mabie’s back then, after the tavern owner of course. Then of course it was used during the war effort and eventually used as a holding house for him. The first and last prisoner.  
“I don’t suppose I can entice you in for a drink can I?”  
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want you to suffer sitting in there and have an outburst-“  
“I can assure you I will be perfectly civil”  
Civil was one word for it, the bastard could charm the change out of a beggars bowl if he wanted.

The inside was full, tables filled with families and tourists all enjoying their evening meal and feeling cultured at being able to sit and eat in history itself. The wooden floors and beams only added to the excitement and thrill, portraits and information plastered on the walls or above the mantelpiece of the fires. A band playing in one of the corners as customers lined up at the bar and placed their orders, the same custom from the last time I had visited and yet changed in so many ways.  
“Table for two?”  
“If you please”  
“Follow me”  
It was odd. He seemed to be enjoying it, as if he was reliving and watching everything around us from someone else’s perspective and not from the eyes of the man whose name sat on the walls and under the unflattering portraits.  
“I’ll give you some time to order-“  
“Two whiskeys, that’s all thank you”  
“Are you sure? We have our dinner menu-“  
“That will be all”  
The waiter seemed surprised but smiled graciously all the same and took the menus away.  
“The steak is good here, you should have tried it”  
“We can’t taste it anyway, how would you know?”  
“Figured I’d try it, it smelt good as it passed me one day”  
He hummed, inspecting the cutlery.  
“I will admit, it is one of the unfortunate aspects of our predicament-“  
“It’s degenerative. It taste like warm over cooked vegetables...soft mush, flavourless-“  
“And yet you pay to eat it”  
“You pay to drink, granted at least that holds some flavour still….bizarre”  
“I’m not complaining”  
At that moment the waiter returned with our drinks, laying down a coaster for the glasses and smiling as he placed each of them on the table for us.  
“Are you sure there’s nothing else I can get you?”  
“Two more of these”  
Seeing that there was clearly no point in arguing, the waiter made a note and took away the cutlery.  
“Is it to your satisfaction or shall you have the man flogged?”  
“Anriette, you know damn well that was not something I ever took part in”  
“Mmm”  
It was bizarre. Food had been taken from us, yet alcohol was granted us. Ironic. Perhaps a cruel twist. Though not many complained, there was no need to eat but drinking was an intrinsic part of life back then, it was as common as drinking coffee is today. Wake up, a glass with your breakfast. Thirsty? Madeira will cover that. Luncheon, at least two bottles. Dinners and parties. Well. His parties were renowned and anyone invited felt that they had reached a new level in social standing. There were at least six bottles reserved. Per person. That included the finest bottle of champagne per guest and a chunder bucket under each chair so that the debauched ‘gents’ and officers could continue their night. Yes, he prided himself on such events. He and two others were renowned for their social spectacles and not just in their own circles. No, the opposing side had been fond of him. As I said, the bastard could charm anyone if he wished too. I had fallen for his charm I will admit, cautious as I had been and remained still, there had been something refreshing about him. Foolish. That’s what I was, foolish.  
“So tell me,” pursing his lips as he enjoyed the strong taste of the liquor before looking over to me from under his lashes with his signature smirk on his lips.  
“What have you done all these years? Eaten as much steak as you can?”  
He grinned despite the mocking laugh I gave him as I drank more from my own glass,  
“Come on Anriette, someone like you- with the skills that you have, surely you’ve had some adventures?”  
“And what if I have? I don’t see why they’re relevant to this conversation-”  
“Well considering the point of this conversation is me asking where you have been all these years, I suppose it really is”  
Smug as well as charming.  
“I stayed here for a while, found myself a home...I enjoyed being anonymous, well as anonymous as I could be given how many of them continued their work after the war.”  
“Yes I heard-”  
“You must have heard an awful lot for a dead man”  
The flash of frustration returned to his eyes as once again I mentioned his death, but as soon as it was there it had returned to a calm and measured look.  
“France. You must have travelled to France-”  
“Yes. I saw the King lose his head, what a state those years were. Some days you couldn’t even turn a corner without finding a pool of blood or decaying head. Still, what’s a little bloodshed-”  
“You were never one for war Anriette-”  
“Yet I found myself in the centre of conflict. Irony perhaps?”  
He hummed and looked back into his glass as if he had found something of interest but I knew full well he was waiting for me to continue. When I didn’t, he looked up and nodded his encouragement.  
“Well, what else?”  
“Nothing else. It’s as you said, we live, we work and we move along when the people around us are old enough to have started questioning. A never ending cycle. The world felt so much larger then, so much easier to hide. Now-now! I could be on the other side of the world in a day and if I wanted people to know it would take a single message online and that would be it. Some say the world has become simpler, I don’t think I agree”  
It seemed to give him a moment of pondering, as if he was only just becoming aware of how much the world had truly changed.  
“Where were you? All this time and not one of us, not a single person heard or sighted you”  
He sighed, bringing himself round from his thoughts with a blink as he crossed his legs over, swirling his glass in contemplation.  
“As you said, we live, we work and we move along. The world was bigger back then”  
“That’s not an answer, that’s restating my words-”  
“But if there is truth to them-”  
“Why must everything be a riddle? You’re not a spymaster anymore, speak plainly-”  
“Spymaster or not sometimes speaking plainly leads to trouble, you above all others should understand that one Anriette”  
A stalemate once more, we both returned to nursing our drinks as the second round was brought over as ordered. The waiter took our glasses and didn’t bother asking if we had changed our minds about the food, clearly he sensed to hostility.  
“Why are you back? Why now?”  
That was what he had been waiting for me to ask, the smile appearing once more, pleased that my inquisitiveness had finally won out despite what I had said at the lake.  
“As I said, there is a chance for vengeance”  
“On who? The last I heard, most if not all had decided it was their time to ‘retire’ from this world”  
“You really have kept your head down all this time haven’t you? I was shocked when I first learned of it myself and the fact that you hadn’t been seen-”  
“You’re talking in riddles again, it’s becoming irritating”  
Yet his intention was clearly not to annoy or avoid what he wanted to say, there was an uneasiness to him, something that was not common place in his usual behaviour. Whatever it was he had to tell me was unsettling him.  
“Arnold”  
Seconds later a glass was thrown violently against the wall.

“My apologies for the broken glass, please ensure that she will not be returning here and I will pay double for the disturbance-”  
“Who shall we bill it to sir?!”  
The waiter called as he hurried out the door to follow after, but he paused to look at the stunned waiter with a grin,  
“J. André”  
The grey complexion and wide eyes and mouth of the waiter gave him a deep sense of satisfaction as he let the door close leaving all inside that surely, surely they had not just seen the ghost of the man whose face lay plastered on the walls.


	2. Wine

The night air had begun to cool, the nightlife was awakening and the walk up the hill was quiet.  
“Anriette!”  
Of course he had followed.  
“Anriette! Wait!”  
There would be no waiting, not now, not ever again.  
“Will you-” yet amazingly his hand grabbed my arm and stopped me in my tracks, holding tightly even as I tried to push him away.  
“Listen to me-”  
“He’s dead! Do you hear me! Dead!”  
“As much as I would love to agree with you on this, I promise you he is not-”  
“Liar! That’s what you do remember, lie. Why should I believe a single bloody word that comes out of your mouth?!”  
He continued to let me rage for a moment standing silent and holding my arm still as I pulled myself away as best I could. Looking back, I realise his silence wasn’t due to the shock of the names I was yelling at him. As my anger faded, I saw his eyes fixated upon something behind me and turning my own gaze, saw the encircled stone that bore his name and the details of his trial and hanging.   
“Did you ever think you would be able to stand and read about your own death? See what others did, where you would be left?”  
“You found me in a ditch remember”  
His hum of response was distant, both of us froze staring at the stone, thinking back to the ice winds that had whipped at peoples skin that day. The look he had given the crowd, calling for them to share with the world that he was a brave man, the fall of his body, the tightening of the rope and the mercy he was granted as his neck was snapped as they pulled on his legs.   
“They took me for questioning yknow, kept me locked up...I could see them from the window as they cut you down-”  
“Anriette-”  
“Arnold is dead. Just as you were that day. You’re wrong”  
Finally his hand released my arm and we faced one another once more, a quietness falling over us. It was eerily quiet, the night creatures falling into silence as if giving their respects, the road into the town a distant whir of noise and cars.  
“If I could be wrong about it then I would be, but I can assure you he is very much alive”

In that moment it felt as if we were back in the war, whispering behind closed doors, walking a distance apart as if concerned that anyone passing us in the street was a spy from the other side who would report their findings. He was sat waiting in the cabin by the time I climbed through the window.  
“Isolated isn’t it?”  
“And I suppose you were staying in a crowded hotel somewhere in the city, breakfast, lunch and supper served on silver platters, right?”  
“Course not, I flew in this morning” grinning smugly as he stood from the chair at the table, he began his look around as I shut the window and peered out towards the trees that were illuminated by the setting sun. Just beyond was the glistening surface of the lake.  
“You’re being uncharacteristically paranoid-”  
“And you’re being uncharacteristically lax”  
He rolled his eyes as he pulled the wine bottle that I had been saving from the wine rack and nodded in approval,  
“At least you remembered the lesson on what to drink”  
“I remembered plenty” snatching the bottle from his hand, I proceeded to walk to the back door, “thank you”  
“You know Anriette, you can pretend what I have told you is a lie and that he truly is dead, or you can listen to me and we can get a head start and deal with this before it becomes...problematic-”  
“Bloody insane” muttering as I let the gauze door close behind me as I walked out onto the porch and sat myself on the swing seat. Much to my annoyance, he appeared behind me carrying two glasses and perched himself on the seat beside me and watched in great amusement as I struggled with the cork. The one thing I had never mastered.  
“Would you like a hand-”  
“Nope”  
Still I struggled, pulling and wriggling until finally he lowered the glasses on the table in front of us and took it from my hands and with one skilled pull, the cork popped right out.   
“Hmm” he sniffed the cork and hummed at the smell and promise, holding the bottom of the bottle in his hand as he poured rather expertly the crimson liquid into the waiting glasses.  
“There- ah!” he smacked my hand away, horrified at my actions.  
“Let it breath for at least a second, did you not listen to anything I taught you-”  
“Yes. Never trust someone else to pour you a drink, it permits them a prime opportunity for removing an obstacle”  
I fluttered my eyelashes, manipulating my voice in mockery of how he had once been.  
“I do not speak like that-”  
“You did”  
Taking my glass and sniffing it for myself, he glared at the impression I had insulted him with as he settled the bottle on the table and replaced it with his own glass and swirled the content round. Pretentious. 

We were halfway through the bottle when he finally spoke again,   
“I could have let you find out for yourself, I didn’t need to come here-”  
“André-”  
“But I did, I came here, risking exposure to myself just so I could tell you-”  
“You came here because you want to involve me in something that I no longer have a part in-”  
“You’ve had a part in this from the moment I sired you and took you in-”  
“You gave me no choice, you took that from me-”  
“I gave you the chance to leave! I warned you that it would be dangerous and you came back time and time again, you carried on after they hanged me, that’s what you said isn’t it? Turned sides and did for them what you’d done for me, did they leave you no choice?”  
He had me there. I had been questioned and given the option of doing the work or being hanged. I had chosen to be hanged, not out of melancholy for the loss of André, simply from weariness of trying and losing. Yet someone, and I had my suspicions as to who, refused my demands. Instead I was sent on their errands and found that my sense of life had returned to me. After I had given them a key piece of information that they had been searching for, they had offered me a pass, a chance to run and find a safe place and I had remained.  
“This time is different, there’s no risk-”  
“There is plenty of risk Anriette, you are simply being too stubborn to see it” he rarely chastised, but when he did you knew that you were coming close to a boundary that you could potentially not return from. When he had been a Major, when he had essentially half the army at his beck and call, it had been even more of a risk to anger him. Now, well, I didn’t realise then just what trouble would come from it all.


	3. Like us

When I returned from my walk, carrying the empty bottle of wine that I had snatched from him as I left the porch after he had called me stubborn, I staggered back up the porch steps and scrambled trying to find the handle for the door.   
“Bloody thing” the night air was cold and I was under the influence of the rather enjoyable wine, he hadn’t left, I knew that. He would have gone round the house, wine in hand and searched for anything he could to piece together the information I wasn’t telling him before finally making himself comfortable for the night.  
“Just bloody- just open!” the bottle fell from my hand and smashed on the porch as I sighed and kicked the door in frustration, my head resting against the mesh of the screen. It was ridiculous, the entire day had been ridiculous and there was no way that this would be the end.   
The wind continued to swirl around me as my eyes closed slowly, comfortable enough that I began to fall asleep.  
“Well, that’s a sight”   
I landed on the floor at his feet with a heavy thud, swearing at him from the shock of having a solid surface suddenly removed.  
“Did you enjoy the wine?”  
He was amused, I didn’t need to see his face to know and hear it is in his voice.   
“Get inside Anriette-”  
“I think I’ll stay here-”  
“Now!”  
I had no say in whether I wanted to stay or not, his hand pulled under my left armpit and I was dragged inside and the door was slammed shut.   
“What are you-”  
“Stay quiet and get up”  
The argument would have to wait. Dragging myself up from the floor, I turned to see his eyes focused on something outside the window, looking into the darkness towards the trees.  
“What are you...an owl, there’s nothing-”  
“GET DOWN!”  
His hands grabbed me and forced me back down onto the floor I had moments ago been led on and as he did so, the window behind us shattered with the added sound of a gunshot.   
“What the fu-”  
“Upstairs and stay low”  
He led the way and as I followed, more shots began to whistle through the cabin. Glass shattered, wood splintered as they lodged themselves into solid objects.  
“What have you done?! Whose after you now!?”  
He didn’t answer as we scrambled up the stairs.  
“Tell me there’s a way out of here-”  
“Yeah but it’s currently being shot at, it’s called the door”  
“ANRIETTE!”  
It would be easy to say that matters couldn’t get worse, that this was the ordeal we were faced with but of course the fates never work like that. As we led on the landing, we heard the window smash and the undeniable smell of smoke.  
“You have got to be kidding me-”  
“Hurry!”  
It was worth the risk of being shot. We ran toward my room as more windows were smashed and the smell of smoke became stronger.  
“What is going on-”  
“This really isn’t the time to go into details, perhaps if you had listened to me instead of going to the lake and drinking yourself into a stupor-”  
“Trust me I’m very sober about now!”  
I grabbed my phone and used the torch to reach for the box that lay under my bed,  
“Anriette as much as I appreciate the idea, there is no time to be packing!”  
I ignored the jibe and shoved the box into the nearest bag I could find and slung it over my back.  
“Shall we go then Major?”  
He grabbed whatever it was he had left on my bed and followed me back out onto the landing that was now covered in a thick blanket of smoke. Downstairs flickered with flames that were rapidly growing and beginning to engulf the lower floor.   
“Anriette-”  
“Stop calling me that!”  
Shoving the bag into his arms, I lifted the window latch and began sliding it up, all the while looking back down the stairs that sat behind us and watching the orange glow.  
“They’ll see us-”  
“There’s trees, if you hurry up and stop questioning me then we can reach them before they circle back”  
Taking the bag back from his arms, I began the climb through the window and down onto the roof that covered the porch that ran around the entirety of the cabin. Sure enough, smoke was beginning to billow out from the lower floor windows and the calls of those responsible for the carnage echoed in the night air.  
“Bastards”  
André was soon beside me as we slid down the roof as silently as we could towards the small cluster of trees that sat beside the cabin.  
“If we climb down then there’s the main road a couple hundred yards. We can head back into the town and get to my car-”  
“Why would you not park here?”  
“Call it paranoia but somehow I knew that you turning up wasn’t going to end in a quiet night in”  
Even in the darkness and the under lighting from the fire beneath our feet, I saw his expression softened with regret but chose to ignore it.   
“Now we can sit and discuss parking or you can go and start climbing down the tree and wait for me”  
He hesitated, as if wanting to say something else but thought against it. Standing on the edge of the roof, he took a deep breath and paused before jumping into the branches. I heard him curse and swear,  
“André?”  
“Your turn- throw me the bag”  
That was a no.   
Unable to see, or see very little and very aware of the heat that was beginning to appear from the flames and the smouldering smell of the wood, I stood up and judged the distance as best I could.   
“THERE!”  
Caught.  
I heard the others running, shouts and yells and the fire burning and then the gunshots. It was like being back in the war. My mind became lost, recalling the nights of raids, hearing the shots and canons, men screaming and the smell of blood and piss. Prayers on the night air that the morning would come and the fight would be over. But the morning only brought the horror of seeing the carnage that had come.   
“ANRIETTE!”  
I inhaled sharply, thrown from my memories by the sound of André’s voice as I lifted my eyes to see his silhouette in the trees before a sharp pain crossed my arm.  
“Bastard!”  
The top of my right arm felt warm, burning almost before sharp pain began to radiate down the rest of my arm and a stickiness covered my hand as I pressed it in reaction.   
“ANRIETTE! NOW!”  
There was no time to think, they knew we were here and they had already shot me, no matter how minor it had been on that occasion. I took a step back and launched myself toward the tree. Thankfully they were tall and dense fir trees and the trunk was thick enough for me to scramble in the dark and wrap myself around.   
“Your arm-”  
“No time. Lets go”  
André led and I followed him down the tree, beneath us we could hear the men scrambling and searching for us, more shots ringing past us as they shot up into the tree blindly.   
“Do you have your phone-”  
“What- yes?”  
“Give it to me” André held out his hand as we remained clinging to the tree. I had no reason to question him, if he had an idea then it was worth the loss of my phone. Which is what happened.   
“What are you doing?”  
“Creating a diversion”  
There was only so much that could be achieved with one phone, but it seemed to work. Turning the light on, he broke off a branch and fastened it with one of his hair tyes.  
“You cannot be serious-”  
“Watch”  
Sure enough, leaning through the branches and shining the light down towards them caught their attention and shouts and shots echoed up towards us.  
“André-”  
“When I say, drop and run”  
I didn’t know how high up we were, but in that moment with my arm bleeding and burning, gunshots blindly aimed at us, I was willing to take the risk. Waiting for a moment where the shots paused, André listened intently before bringing his arm back as best he could without falling and threw the phone that he had attached to the branch out from within the tree. It was practically primitive in its design and there was no way it should have worked. Yet it did. The men below us, mere shadows and shapes, watched the light from my phone twist in the sky and land far enough away from us that as they ran toward it, we dropped and landed.   
“Run!”  
André pulled me up once more and we ran in the opposite direction. I expected to meet the cold end of a gun, or the hit a body that had blocked out get away path but there was nothing. Only the aching in my arm and the internal willing that my legs wouldn’t give out before we reached the road. André led in front as I paused and turned to face the cabin that was now very much engulfed in flames. Its roof collapsing in a cloud of smoke and embers, a beautiful bonfire of destruction against the black night sky.   
“We have to go”  
His voice was gentle this time, his hands soft against my sides as he pulled me back and urged me to follow him.   
“What are they?”  
Yet it was the men, the ones who had caused the fire, caused the bleeding and now seemed oblivious to the fact that we had ever been there that I found my eyes drawn to. Watching as they circled the fire as if mesmerised and seeing the element for the very first time.   
“I’ll explain later but come away Anriette-”  
“What are they doing- they have to know we’re not- André!”  
Shock stilled my feet as we had been walking backwards. One of them, the men, watching the flames had taken the remaining steps of the porch and walked into the flames as if they weren’t even there. His screams, no they weren’t screams, they were screeches. Like some creatures and not human. One by one they all followed and stepped into the fire.  
“What the fuck are they doing?!”  
André pulled me back sharply and I heard sirens approaching, fire engines and no doubt the police arriving having heard from the neighbouring cabin that there was a fire.   
“We must leave. Now!”

The walk to the town was quiet. It was as if the trees and its inhabitants could sense the danger and were staying in their burrows and away, or perhaps it was because my mind was focused on the throbbing ache in my arm. The bars were closed, the shops were shut apart from the neon lights in some of the windows, inhabitants in bed and in the morning would wake to the news of the fire and the remains of people burned inside. Blood would be found, gun shots, a news report no doubt.   
“Give me your keys-”  
We arrived at my car that was parked down one of the side streets not far from the tavern, his hand held out for me to put the keys in that I had been clutching in my own since we joined the road into town.   
“No I’m driving”  
“You currently have your hand over a gunshot that’s bleeding and in need of stitches. No”  
He had a point. Keys handed over, we reached the car and were cautious enough to look round before we got in and locked the doors and just sat there. In silence. In the dark.   
“What were those things? They looked like humans...but the noises they made, they walked into that fire...I’ve seen that once before and no one ever spoke of it”  
André sighed, his head leant back against the headrest before he lifted his head up once more and began rubbing his eyes and nodding his head.   
“We’ve all seen them. War. It’s the perfect setting for many a dark deed to go unnoticed”   
“...Is this to do with him? Is that why you came for me?” I whispered, as if paranoid that someone would be listening to us. He merely looked round at me and waited for me to look at him in turn,   
“I’ll explain more when we get there”  
He started the car and began to drive down the main road that would lead us out of the town.  
“Where is there exactly?”  
We exited and the town and began driving past the lake and nestled away we saw the dying embers of what had been the cabin, now a simmering pile of ash and bone and the flashing lights of the sirens. We were running away. That’s what our kind did. You worked, you lived and when questions were asked, you ran. But this time was different.   
“Where are we running too?”  
“...Mount Vernon. We’ll meet the others there. They’ll know.”  
We were at war. Again.


	4. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anriette and André make their journey to Mount Vernon with unexpected consequences.

The throbbing from the gunshot was enough to keep me awake for a few hours, my head leaning against the window of the car as the passing lights of houses blurred by. It was silent. Mercifully so. Whether André believed that I had fallen asleep or that I simply didn’t want to talk, we remained that way for the majority of the night. André was the first to speak, glancing over to me briefly before they returned to the forest road that we were travelling along.  
“How is your arm?”  
“It’s burning”  
He hummed and then it returned to a moment of silence, the lull of the car and the passing trees with the darkness beyond them.  
“Has it stopped bleeding?”  
“No”  
“Then we need to get you to hospital-“  
“No, it’s just taking time to heal. It’ll just be another scar soon enough.”  
“Anriette-“  
“Stop. We can’t stop. The sooner we get to Vernon…”  
I considered that perhaps the reason it struck me as sharply as it did in that moment is because I hadn’t spoken about those things for so long. Mount Vernon had not been a place I visited once I left America, every site that had been a part of the war and had been part of everyday life. I removed them. They were put away somewhere in my mind and that’s what they became. Memories.   
“How long has it been?”  
“I’m hungry”  
He had the sense to push no further or question me, just kept driving until the darkness of the trees began to recede and the lights of a gas station appear.  
“We’ve got another couple of hours to go, your arm-“  
“Just make sure the car is full. I’ll deal with the rest”  
The store was empty, as one would expect in the middle of the night and the attendant was clearly not expecting anyone to join him. The shock as I opened the door and walked in was evident by the sudden splash of coke over the desk top.  
“Evening-“  
“Where’s your whiskey?”  
“Aisle 4”  
The amusing thing with people that came into contact with us, was the way their natural instinct began to warn them that there was something not quite right. There was no way that they could ever figure it out, just that guttural feeling that something was misplaced.   
Sure enough the whiskey was down aisle 4 and even more conveniently was the makeshift first aid boxes two aisles over. Grabbing what I could, aware that the blood was still prominent despite the makeshift bandage that we had fashioned out of a t shirt I’d left in the car, I head back towards the desk where the still staring attendant was waiting. His tired blue eyes peered over his fogging glasses, mouth hanging slightly open as I dumped what I had in my hands onto the counter.  
“How much?”  
Nothing.   
For a second I wondered whether he was in fact real and not one of the cardboard cut outs, he reminded me of one of the tavern owners sons who had resided in York city. He’d enjoyed one or two of the lovely women who worked on the docks, staring at them until it became so obvious his mother clipped him round the ear.  
“I said how-“  
“Your arm”  
Sure enough, his eyes had been focused on my arm and as I turned my attention towards it I realised why. The t shirt bandage was stained with fresh blood, evidently opened up again and the warm stickiness making the ragged jacket edges cling to the wound.  
“An accident-“  
“A hospital-“  
“How much?”  
Nothing. Maybe he hadn’t seen blood before, or maybe he was concerned that a group of people were about to burst in and he would find himself in the middle of a shootout. Saving both him and me the favour of anymore awkwardness, I dropped forty dollars onto the counter and left. He had no complaints and I wasn’t going to hang around and wait for him to come up with any.   
“Everything all right?”  
“Yeah me and cashier were having a great chat,”  
Climbing into the car and handing the first aid box to André, I began opening the whiskey with my free hand.  
“Thought you said you were hungry-“  
“Whiskey is food”  
No argument there. Rooting through the first aid box, he pulled out what he needed.  
“Needle and thread-“  
“Should be a sewing kit in the dash compartment”  
“Always prepared aren’t you-“  
“Hurry up”  
Jacket and makeshift bandage removed, the extent of bleeding became apparent as I ripped the remainder of my sleeve open.  
“That’s going to scar up nicely-“  
“Like I said, add it to the rest of them”  
Swallowing back the whiskey provided a welcoming warmth as it settled down my throat and into my stomach, the burn as it was poured into the wound however was less welcomed.  
“How’s the pain?”  
“Great”  
André smirked as he saw me drink more from the bottle, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as he took the bottle from me and began pouring it over the needle and thread that he had found.   
“Ready? I can’t promise this will be one of my gentler touches-“  
“Just get on with it”  
Snatching the bottle back, I turned my arm towards him and continued taking mouthfuls as I felt the first pierce of the needle. There had been a couple of times that he had done this, back when I had worked for him and found my self on the receiving end of some less than pleased officers or even other women who assumed I was the mistress to their husband.  
“Couple more and we’re done”  
The bottle was certainly beginning to drain and there was a gentle numbness that was over taking me, the cold of the night seemed to be warming and my thoughts seemed to have slowed down to a manageable pace.  
“Talk to me Anriette-“  
“How do we get into Vernon? It’ll be closed by the time we get there and I highly doubt they’re going to let us just walk on in during tour times and demand we’re let into the vault like hey! Don’t suppose you’ve seen the First President of the United States around anywhere have you-“  
“That’s not what I mean”  
“Then what do you mean? What do you want?”  
“I know that face of yours Anriette, I intend to answer all your questions but I need you to be honest with me and start talking-“  
“You brought this shit show, not me, what am I meant to say exactly?”  
He nodded and continued pulling the thread through, making sure that the skin was holding together and cleaning the blood that fell with a cotton swab.  
“We’re passing by Philadelphia, we can always stop off and collect a few things-“  
“They’re gone. Those things you’re referring to, the things we hid, I took them-“  
“Where are they?”  
“Safe”  
“We’re going to need them, can you get them?”  
Stitching done, he began wrapping my arm as I dropped the bloodied swabs and clothing onto the ground.  
“Maybe-“  
“Anriette-“  
“Let’s go. We’ve got a couple more hours ahead of us”  
Before anything else could be said, I closed the door and cradled the bottle in my lap with André on the other side of the door, his hands covered in my blood. Ironic.

It had been winter, that much I remember. It had started as every other winter, the soldiers returning to the cities, the snows and winds creeping their way over the land and taking the lives of the less fortunate. That year had started well, I had found myself working in the house of Colonel Johnathan Cooke. I’d been a kitchen maid and used to moving myself around without being noticed. It had been a life that I was used to, a life of service and working in the shadows. I had heard things- saw things in that house, walking from room to room and going about my duties as I was supposed to. Then it changed. Suddenly I wasn’t going unnoticed anymore, I was seen by him. The Colonel. The one who supplied the gluttonous men who sat at his table- who sat at André’s table. It was a look, a touch or praise for a job well done. But the looks began to linger and the touches were longer and in the end I found myself followed and cornered in a room by one of his ‘gentleman’ friends. His hands sliding over my body, pushing me against the wall as he reached for the bottom of my skirts.  
“Give me what I want”  
I had fought, dropped the tray of silver I had been holding to take and polish and heard it clatter to the floor as I continued to fight him off. His breath was hot and smelt of the wine he had been drinking, the roasted meats that I had spent that morning preparing just for them to waste and vomit into the buckets I would be cleaning later.  
“Please Sir-“  
“Stop resisting me! I am your master!”  
The blow to my face had been hard enough to cause my lip to burst, the taste of blood filling my mouth and a dull ringing in my ears threw off my balance. Head lolling to the side, his hand round my throat as he continued to pull at my skirts.   
“That’s more like it-“  
I could never reason what it was that brought me back to my senses, but as his hands found their way up my thigh I found my hand wrapped round one of the candle sticks beside us on the mantlepiece. It struck him, on the side of the head. It didn’t kill him. But his blood splattered my face and he fell to the floor, groaning and cursing at me. The rest is a blur of moments, Cooke entered the room followed by the others, they hurled their abuse at me, promised I would hang. Amazingly I was faster than them, they staggered and fell and I found myself running into the snow filled streets of the city.   
I was lucky, that’s what I kept telling myself, I was lucky I had got away. That’s the comfort I gave myself on the nights I stood outside the taverns and theatres, waiting for people who I could steal from or the odd drunken who would offer a penny for my hand in their breeches. But it was never enough. Eventually there was no money left, the soldiers were moved and I had no room to stay once the board realised where they had heard my name. Whispers could be the difference between life and death and they had turned against me. What clothes I could afford to give away were sold, small jobs here and there but it wasn’t enough. Never enough.   
I was on the road to Philadelphia, as far as I can recall, following some of the other women who were making their way there in a hope that there would be something waiting for them. I walked because I had nothing left in the city, no family, no employment. It seemed all that I had left.   
“Penny for my hand Sir?”  
“Quick tug soldier?”  
Desperate times, women knew how to survive and they intended to carry on surviving even on the road and some men gave in, gave them their penny and went on their way. The women collecting their coins, intent that when they finally reached the city they would be better off. Yet something within me knew that the chances of reaching Philadelphia were slipping away. With each night that came and the morning that followed, bodies were aching and screaming for warmth and food. A bed and a full belly, two of the things life requires. Some mornings there were those who simply did not wake, those that had been sick or too weak to carry on and the cold had carried them away. It was a part of life, as horrific and unimaginable for some as it may be, that was an occurrence which became common place. It was war, death didn’t always occur on the battlefield. They happened in the street, in the houses next door or as you walked the roads between cities.   
I knew something was wrong the morning I woke and found myself unable to stop coughing, lungs rattling with each inhale before the tell tale reddened spots appeared in the palm of my hand. I knew then that if I did reach the city, there was a small chance of surviving it. But I was under no illusion, I had seen people die of consumption, black lung and knew what it did, how it riddled the body and emaciated a person until they were a walking husk of themselves.   
That was how he found me.   
Weak, covered in my own blood and led half in a ditch on the side of the road that was leading from York city to Philadelphia, he came riding by travelling back from some business or other. Those that were stronger stood and tried to stop his horse and the men with him, asking for their money, promising them a good time. I merely carried on my way, feet dragging across the ground but keeping my head up as best I could despite the rattling in my throat. His horse side stepped, moving round the people that blocked his way and he simply smiled in amusement at the suggestive comments made his way but paid them no heed. That’s when we saw me. That’s when I saw him. Half dead, my skin grey and mouth scabbed and bleeding. We stared at each other, unable to look away as I continued on my way past him and his convoy and stumbled into the side of his horse.  
“On your way!”  
The soldier closest to me grabbed my shoulders, his hands pressing harshly against the bone of my shoulders that had become prominent thanks to the illness. The ground was cold and harsh beneath my hands, grazing my palms as the coughing began once more and my body shook in exhaustion.  
“On your way I said!”  
The shove of a boot against my ribs should have been enough to keep me down, to keep me led there as they moved on, yet no one moved and I refused to stay down. Pain riddled my body and my chin was lined with blood and spit, tears forming as I pushed myself up aware of the burning in my hands from the grazes.  
“I said move”  
I had managed to push myself to my knees, leaning back on them as I wiped the mess from my face to see him, André crouching beside me.  
“And what might your name be?”

“Anriette”  
My head bounced against the car window as I came round to him calling my name and shaking my shoulder gently, I had been dreaming or maybe it was reminiscing? It was when we had first met. When he had taken me from the road on the brink of death.  
“You were dreaming”  
“Its what happens when you sleep, you’ve probably missed that for the last couple centuries”  
My forehead was sticky with sweat, my arm was hot and the aching though subsided was now a stinging sensation. Potentially infection.   
“…were you dreaming of when we first met-“  
“Maybe”  
“You know I never forgot that-“  
“Why would you? That’s when you made me eternally bound to you. I’d be insulted if you did forget”  
His hands gripped the steering wheel, it had always been an area of tension for him, as if there were some form of regret behind his choice.   
“Do you regret it?”  
“Regret what? Taking you from off the road where you would have died? Absolutely not-“  
“But do you regret siring me and therefore ensuring that I remained here, in this existence until the end of time itself-“  
“You always had a flair for the dramatic Anriette you really did-“  
“Must have come from you…dad”  
His head snapped round and from my peripheral vision I could see he was glaring at me. The problem when one becomes sired by another, is that knowing that person becomes intimate in a way that is hard to explain. Traits, behaviours, reactions- it all becomes instinctual, as if its been hardwired into your brain from the beginning of your life. The intension is to create a bond, a trust between the sire and sired that can’t be broken by any length of time or distance. In some instances however, it leads to conflict and a clash of wills. Me and André, we sat somewhere in the middle.   
“I mean you did know how to pick the dramatic type, you almost couldn’t help but falling for them-“  
“Anriette I don’t know how many times-“  
“You can’t deny it. Philomena really did take the crown for that one though- I’m sure she would have loved a crown in fact, that would have kept her sweet”  
“Do you really want to be having this conversation right now? After three quarters of a bottle of whiskey-“  
“That’s the perfect time to be having this conversation. So c’mon. What is it? The flare for the dramatic? The pretty and spoiled young woman….or the luscious blonde hair that draws you to them-“  
“Leave Peggy out of this-“  
“I liked Peggy.”  
His words seems to get stuck in his throat, gaze turning from the road once more to look round at me and me in turn looking round at him.  
“What? Didn’t expect to hear that did you. Well, surprise for you, I liked her. I pitied her being with…with him, everyone did whether they said it or not”  
“She knew the risk, she knew what was going to happen-“  
“That was always your answer, there’s a risk, this could be dangerous- walk away. You had a whole script of them André and yet not once did you stop and think that maybe you should have listened to your own advice. She offered you a chance, she was willing to leave with you and what did you do?”  
“You don’t think I know that?! That I haven’t spent every moment since thinking over my choices- replaying those moments over and over and each time realising that I missed every chance that there was. If this is meant to be some kind of retribution for my mistakes against her then save your breath Anriette, I’ve been in repentance for centuries”  
He snatched the bottle from my lap and gulped a large mouthful down, wincing slightly as he did so before thrusting it back into my chest.  
“Well…at least you realised you were a dick”  
Scoffing, he shook his head.  
“You have to have the last word don’t you?”  
“Maybe but you knew what you were taking on when you found me and therefore I can’t be blamed for you making the mistake in siring me”  
“I’ve never said it was a mistake-“  
“You didn’t need to say anything André, your actions spoke loud enough”  
That hurt him and I saw him physically wince. I knew Peggy Shippen, first it was through the social gatherings and events from afar, the untouchable beauty of the room who every young woman aspired to be. André had called her insufferable and spoilt but I knew, I knew with a single look that he had fallen for her. That’s where the sire link comes in, much to his annoyance. When he had finally succumbed to the feelings that he had been suppressing and that had become a heavy angst between them, was when I fully began to know Peggy. I knew then what would become of me and André. Sire or not, he had found his match and whatever feeling he may have held for me became secondary to her. I couldn’t blame him, she was as dazzling as everyone whispered and her beauty in turn, I found, was matched with her abilities and courage. Perhaps I envied her. But in the end when André had ‘died’ and she was left with the man she was to call husband, I pitied her. I at least had my freedom.   
Silence fell within the car again, the stinging words delivering a blow that sat heavy between us and every time I glanced round he was staring at the road ahead of him, barely blinking. Clearly they had struck him deep down. It had been an argument we had many times in the lead up to me leaving him, leaving his employment and in turn he and Peggy becoming separated by different sides of the war. From there it had been a spiral down until the fateful day both she and I watched him swing from the noose. Her face, ashen with tears and clutching his severed braid of hair was branded into my mind as she watched his lifeless form swinging in the bitter wind. I had approached her and she had known who I was,   
“You’re the one he always talked about, his Anriette”  
We saw one another right up until she sailed for England, following after her bastard of a husband and each time we met I tried to convince her to let me sire her.  
“Live to see what Anriette? My children die eventually, as well as the man I have loved more than anything in this life? What a lonely world he has left you to face alone”  
No matter the amount of letters we sent to one another, that always remained clear. The way her glistening eyes, filled with sympathetic tears had gleamed from across the table or the gentle touch of her hand on my arm as if I was the one who was to suffer. She saw it a greater end to die her natural death than the reality that I was to face.   
When news of her death reached me, I was faced with the sudden reality that my last link to André had departed and I was truly alone in my knowledge.   
“I-“  
“We’re here”   
Before I could say anything else, he brought the car to a stop and sure enough we were met with the large entrance gates to the grounds.  
“How do we get in?”  
“By that man there”  
A security guard appeared, walking towards us with all the authority and surety in the world as if this was a normal occurrence for him  
“Evening Sir, we are here to see his Excellency”  
“Of course Major, the final guest arrived three hours ago Sir”  
“Thank you James”  
Taking a key card and envelope from the security guard, André sat back and watched as the gates were unlocked and opened.  
“What’s in there?”  
“Provisions I had sent over, I figured even if you refused to join us that I would be staying here for a while”  
“So you’ve had this planned-“  
“Planned isn’t the word for it. I’ve been aware of it, I simply put the gears in motion and made the necessary provisions”  
Efficient as always it seemed. Gates opened, he drove the car down the designated route that would have otherwise been off limits for others or during the day.   
“Won’t this place open tomorrow?”  
“Conservation work is taking place. As far as the public is concerned, the mansion house won’t be opened for another month at least-“  
“How the hell have you managed to do this?”  
“Not everyone like us has a name and title, they go about their lives relatively unseen but once you know who they are they can become a useful ally”  
Clearly, despite all the time that had passed, he still knew how to win people over to his advantage and have them hidden in plain daylight, passing by in the world unnoticed but noticing everything.   
“-that’s who you will find in there, that is if they responded to my invitation and you haven’t listened to anything I just said have you?”  
“Having a…just, yeah-“  
Thankful for the last dregs of whiskey in the bottle, I drank them down as we approached the front of the mansion house, all lit and from the windows I saw the movement of figures within. My hands had become clammy, my mouth watering and I was sure that if my heart was still beating then it would have been thumping against my ribcage.  
“Anriette-“  
“This is ridiculous- I haven’t- he died. They all died-“  
“You know that’s not how it works-“  
“I was! I was very convinced until you arrived”  
The car stopped. We were finally here. There was no going back now, nearly five hours and it was still dark.  
“They’ll be waiting for us-“  
“I need more whiskey-“  
“You never got nervous-“  
“How long have they been awake? You really think it’s a good idea they’re here? For starters women wear trousers now never mind everything else that has happened- they can’t be throwing slurs round- I really need more whiskey- how long have they been awake?”  
“….long enough to know the world has changed and to see most of them”  
His words cut through the cloud of panic rising in me like a knife. Suddenly everything stilled and it was as if all noise had suddenly been silenced.   
“…you mean they were around all that time and not one of them- not even you…I was left alone”  
His eyes had taken on that sad glisten again, a sight that seemed out of place on his face where there was usually nothing but confidence and surety.   
“It’s not that simple-“  
“Stop treating me like some ignorant child you absolute bastard!”  
The whiskey really had taken affect, the car door slammed and I found myself marching towards the grand building that looked the same and yet had changed since all those years ago when I had first visited.  
“Wait!”  
My fist raised to hit the door, but before I could land the first blow it was opened and I was greeted with a face that was everywhere and yet had not been seen properly for centuries.  
“Hamilton”  
“Anriette”  
He looked the same, yet there were signs of age, a change from the war years when we had been- well, we had been young then. Nodding stiffly and aware that he would have no doubt seen me marching towards the door and André yelling my name, I stepped into the doorway and stared at him.  
“You’ve got a musical all about you yknow?”  
“So I’ve heard” he smirked, so confident still.  
“Good”  
He watched intently, anticipating the next sarcastic remark that I would throw his way but I simply nodded once more, feeling the rising tension once again as I walked away from him.  
“On the left-“  
“Yes thank you”  
I may have acted like I knew where I was going but the truth of it was that I was simply following my feet in the hopes I would find someone else in another room. Hamilton clearly knew differently, I could practically hear the chuckle as I changed my direction and he greeted André. Oh yes, they were no doubt enjoying their reunion. Separate sides of the war and fulfilling their duty and yet the admiration had been shared, it was touching.   
“Anriette, in here”  
The accent had changed. Just as André had lost the rhythm of speech over time, so had this voice but there was no denying to whom it belonged.  
“Gilbert? You’re here?”  
“Of course” his tall frame stood from one of the chairs and a smile pulled at his still youthful, pale face. He stepped forward but stopped himself from taking another step, hands falling back down to the top of his chair, unsure if reaching out to embrace me was the right thing. He had always been full of nervous energy, charming and filling the room with enthusiasm but always with a side of awkward unsurety.  
“It’s nice to see you again Gilbert”  
“You too chérie”  
“That’s more than a greeting either of us received. You must really be the favourite Gilbert” Hamilton quipped as he and André walked into the room and we all came to be stood round the table in the middle of the green dinning room.   
“Jealous Hamilton? It was always an interesting thing to see what happened when you became jealous-“  
“Hardly.” He finished pouring himself a glass of wine, offering it to both André and Gilbert who both accepted before he looked round at me, those infamous eyes glistening with mischief.  
“Who’s to say Gilbert isn’t my favourite-“  
“Laurens”  
In an instant that mischief turned dull, sombre and the gentle gasp beside me confirmed my own thoughts. That was too far. Sure enough as Hamilton placed the bottle down on the table, I braced myself for the onslaught that was being prepared. Like a firework, watching it soar into the sky and waiting for that explosion that would leave you speechless.  
“Alex-“  
“You think you’re the only one who lost people? That you were the only one who suffered-“  
“No of course not- I didn’t-“  
“You throw things around like they have no meaning just to wound those who stand round you, don’t forget my dear Anriette everyone in this room made sacrifices and watched people around us suffer- watched them die. Inflicted pain at the hands of others-“  
“Or by our own hands, you’d know about that as well I suppose Hamilton isn’t that correct. Eliza was a saint forgiving your transgressions?”  
The whiskey was really having an effect.   
Gilbert’s eyes flicked between both me and Hamilton as stood on opposite sides of the tables whilst André drained half his glass of wine knowing full well this was only the beginning. I bit the inside of my lip, watching Hamilton’s eyes begin to darken and my own hand tightened round the top of the chair I stood behind and his own respectively round the stem of his wine glass.  
“Of course you were wholly innocent and never committed any kind of unforgiveable misdemeanour did you Anriette? You were an angel walking among us and we the lucky sinners who found ourselves in your presence-“  
“My misdemeanours saved your lives-“  
“You were a misdemeanour! You stand cast your judgement and forget to turn to mirror back on yourself, how many times did I find you on my doorstep, begging- pleading for help-“  
“Some help you offered!”  
“That’s enough”  
Another voice joined the battle and silenced us all. But this voice didn’t need to be raised for people to pay attention, simply needed to make itself known.  
“Excellency, Sir”  
Washington stepped forward from the doorway, walking in to join the rest of us evidently having heard the raised voices.   
“How was your journey Major?”  
“We were found, clearly they were aware as we suspected”  
Washington nodded stiffly and though I was staring at the table I was aware that he was watching me, Hamilton silenced but his jaw tensing with unspoken arguments.  
“Then we will relocate earlier than we planned, we cannot risk them finding us. Alexander”  
“Yes”  
Washington narrowed his eyes, Hamilton staring at me as I lifted my gaze to look back at him.  
“Take Lafayette and ready our provisions, we will leave in two days-time before the weather closes in on us”  
Gilbert nodded, walking round and placing his hand on Hamilton’s shoulder and guiding him out the room leaving three of us.  
“Major I need the locations of our safe houses relayed to our allies, tell them that the plans have changed and we will be meeting them there instead”  
“Of course-“  
“Have your people scout out the area, I want to know if this attack was localised or if we can expect more on our way.”  
“I’ll send them out tonight, Anriette-“  
“Myself and Miss Harris have much to discuss”  
André was wary, he knew that I had been drinking and the outburst with Hamilton was only proof at how on edge I was.  
“We will be fine Major”  
Nodding, André looked at me and pleaded silently that I at least listen to what Washington was about to tell me. Departing the room, I was left with the racing feeling in my head one gets when their fight or flight has kicked in, the surge of an argument. Perhaps the whiskey-which was usually of no concern, but on an empty stomach and a still healing gunshot had provided an interesting combination.  
“With me Anriette”  
He left the room, walking through the doorway that was on my right and disappearing into the hidden corridor that I knew led to the back stairs and up to his bed chamber as well as his study. Taking a deep breath and steadying myself, I slowly followed him through the doorway and into the small corridor where sure enough I found him stood by his desk and looking over the papers that lay scattered there. It only struck me then that there he was, the revered and all but deified First President stood before me in cloths of this century. They all had been. It was a bizarre and confusing contrast that my mind somehow found hard to accept. The last I had seen these men they were in uniform or attire from our century, over two centuries ago. That was gone, before me stood the same man who had led the country to victory with the help of countless others and yet he was stood in a suit of this century. It was jarring.  
“How have you been Anriette?”  
His voice- all their voices had changed. It was the same and yet so different- the one thing that was certain and proven mere moments before with Hamilton, was that in a moment of anger we clearly reverted back to the phrasing and long winded way of saying, ‘fuck you’.   
“I got shot. They burnt my cabin…he’s back. All in all it’s been not that great”  
He didn’t look up from his papers, not that I expected him too, he was in battle preparation. Doing what he did best and surveying our odds no doubt, the information that André had clearly been collecting.   
“Why am I here?”  
Now he did look up. I was in no doubt that I looked a state. Clothes torn and bloodied, dried blood on my arms and hands, probably my face, smelling of whiskey and sweating from the healing in my arm. He had the courtesy to at least not mention this.  
“We need everyone to unite, to bring this force down”  
“What force? Whose everyone? What the fu-“  
“Anriette”  
“What does this have to do with him?”  
If there was one thing I was certain of, it was that both Washington and I shared an equal hatred for Arnold.   
“André-“  
“He’s told me nothing and all I keep getting told is, I will give you answers. So far I have nothing but a bleeding arm from a gunshot- which by the way came from something that was not human” something in his expression changed ever so slightly at the mention of those…things.  
“Also! I find out that everyone is still alive- not just alive but has been around for years. Thank you for that-“  
“He’s already raised them, this is happening quicker than anticipated-“  
“WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN?!”  
My patience was gone and the fact that Washington ignored my very evident curse and instead marched past me, informed me that whatever it was that I had just revealed was of greater concern. Slamming my hand on the desk in frustration, I followed after him determined that I would get my answers.   
“André!”  
André appeared from the first room in the entrance way, Hamilton and Gilbert looking up from their own work,  
“Sir?”  
“How many were there?”  
Without even mentioning what he might be referring to, André understood Washington’s meaning.  
“Five- maybe six…enough to show that for now he has what he needs to start with basic numbers”  
Now Hamilton and Gilbert began to join us in the entrance way, clearly they understood it too, the only person in that group who didn’t was me.  
“Either I start getting answers or I will walk out of that door-“  
“How is it possible? So quickly-“  
“Depends who he has on the inside-“  
“Perhaps he has been planning this for longer than we feared-“  
“Or this was always the plan”  
Back and forth they each threw postulations, ideas, fears and in the end I walked through them to the door.  
“Anriette-“  
“You won’t tell me what this is all about then I am leaving. I hate to remind you all but this is a different century, I’m not here to do your bidding or wait around in the shadows whilst you have your meetings and decide whether or not I need to know. Figure this out yourself”  
Yet as I opened the door, I found it pushed open with a force that sent me flying onto the floor and a weight on top of me.  
“Check outside!”  
I saw boots pass me and felt the scrambling of hands over me as they pulled the weight from me before I was dragged from beneath the rest of it.  
“Wh-what the hell-“  
“They know we’re here”  
André held me against him, holding me up as my head began to swim with the impact of hitting the floor as Washington was crouched over the body of the security guard. Widening my eyes to try and fight the blurriness away, I saw blood on his throat and the jagged edges of skin. He’d had his throat slit, torn and the smell of warm blood suddenly filled the entrance way.  
“They- they killed him- what-“  
A gunshot echoed from outside, followed by yells from both Hamilton and Gilbert who were soon joined by Washington as he joined them in the darkness outside.  
“Wh- I don’t-“  
“Anriette-“  
I was unconscious before I could hear anything else that André had to say, the sound of gunshots echoing and following me into that uncomfortable darkness. 

When I woke I was thankfully surrounded by silence, the pounding in my head a combination of alcohol and a wooden floor. The bed beneath me was warm despite the chill in the air around me and the room was bright enough that I could see that morning was upon me. Then the recollection of the night before came hurtling back. The dead security guard, the shouting and gunfire. The anger, the alcohol and arguments and yet that had only taken part over a whole twenty four hours.   
“Where are they”  
Despite the ache and the insistent throbbing in my head, I knew that lying there would only make matters worse. Pulling myself up from the bed, I turned to see the dining room to my left and realised I was still downstairs which would make it easier than trying to navigate the stairs. Thankfully as well, the site of last night had been removed from the entrance way. No body, no blood- not that I’m concerned by the site of blood, being in a war tent soon knocks that out of you, but the thought of leaving a body there seemed indecent.   
“Even now people are caught in the cross fire”  
Opening the door that led to the piazza and eastern entrance, I was met with a site that could remove all unsettled feeling. The watercolour sky of the early morning perfectly framed the Potomac river that lay a walk down the garden and through the trees. Its smooth surface surrounding the landscape and making it seem so vast. The cool morning air was a relief, washing away the stuffiness in my head and bringing with it a sense of resolution and calm.  
“You’re up earlier than I expected”  
“Did you even sleep?”  
“A solid five hours I believe”   
Turning slowly, sure enough Hamilton was stood beside me with a black coffee in hand and looking at ease with the world. He was watching the horizon, sipping his coffee like there wasn’t a care in the world or that last night had even taken place. Satisfied that he had taken in a sufficient appreciation for the morning view, he turned to meet my gaze, both of us knowing full well that there was plenty left to say.  
“André said-“  
“I’m sorry…for what I said…about Eliza…and Laurens, that- you know- I-“  
“Me too”  
Just like that the air was cleared. The firework had burst and was now nothing more than the trails of smoke that it left in its wake. Throwing the dregs of coffee onto the lawn, he stepped beside me and began to inspect me just as he had the view.  
“Your head will probably heal right up, as for your arm I redressed it last night-“  
“What happened- who killed him? What’s going on and why is no one telling me-“  
“Because there’s too much to explain to you and we all know it. You have every right to demand it of us but no one will admit that. Least of all me. So, I will answer what I can. The security was killed by the same thing that shot at you and André, yes Arnold is the one involved, yes we managed to catch the one responsible for killing the security guard. No, no one will ever no, yes the bodies have been dealt with. Yes we are at war again. Yes we need you here. Is that sufficient enough for now?”  
His fingers were gentle as they checked my arm, holding his hand in place to steady me and as a comfort.  
“What are they, people keeping saying they-“  
“Come on A, you know what they are, you’ve seen them but we reasoned with ourselves that they weren’t possible. But if that’s the case then we aren’t possible, none of this is possible. So, tell me, what are they”  
The word stuck in my throat, like bile that refused to settle and kept bubbling with each passing second.  
“They’re us. They’re undead”  
“Precisely. Though it seems people have begun to assume undead means a blood sucking creature. It’s more than that, but whatever helps them realise they’re not alone I suppose”   
Some would almost say that Hamilton was unconcerned in the flippant way he made his remarks, he was simply stating facts. That was where I found comfort in him, we spoke plainly to one another, no sugar coating or hiding. We may fire each other up, but we always resolved our issues and never lied to each other.   
“So what…Arnold has found a way to make new ones?”  
“He’s found a way to control them, the extent of creating new ones is in question. But it seems that despite what you did to him, it wasn’t enough”  
There I had been sure. I’d walked from that room drenched in his blood, knife in hand, poison in another and I’d watched him die. They’d called it gout because the truth was too horrific to reveal. Besides, when you have people working for you it’s their job to ensure that the story told to the public is believed and so it had been for decades.   
“Then this is because of me. He’s back because of what I did”  
Hamilton sighed, his hands squeezing the tops of my arms as I watched his expression.  
“He’s back because of us all. You just managed to get to him before anyone else…besides, you know us men and bruised egos, we take that with us even into death”  
I scoffed at him and hummed, he was one of them some would argue. Ego based and in the end that led to the duel that became his fate. Well, that’s what the history books will tell you.  
“I wish Eliza had listened…I wish she was here-“  
“She was an angel among us, you said it yourself…she knew the children couldn’t be left. Dear Betsey” his eyes glazed as he mentioned her name and I placed a hand over his, bringing it to my mouth and kissing his palm.  
“I miss her too”  
A tear fell down his cheek, eyes shining as he stroked his thumb over my own fallen tear.  
“She was very fond of you, she always told me that if I ever saw you again to tell you that. You were like one of our own- a sister, a love in our life”  
He smiled and kissed my forehead, my arms settling on his waist as he rest his forehead against mine.  
“I still think she’s selfish for keeping you all for herself”   
His laugh was a rare but wonderful thing to hear, gifted to those closest to him.  
“She knew that as well”  
Grinning in return, we turned back towards the house where we knew the others would be waiting.  
“Although she did say that it was only fair if you got to keep André”  
By the time we reached the dining room where sure enough the others were waiting, we had shared more jokes and comments between each other that for a moment we forgot that there was a darkness waiting for us. Or that indeed that darkness had managed to reach us just hours before.


	5. Molly Brown

“How are you this morning Cherie? You gave us a fright”   
“You know me Gilbert, always did enjoy a flair of dramatics”  
His smile was comforting, if not sympathetic as he saw me rubbing the sore spot on my head as I took the offered cup of coffee.  
“Perhaps it would do you well to stay away from the dramatics for a while hmm?” pouring his own coffee, he was teasing and it helped to relax me further as we walked to the table where André and Hamilton were searching over various papers and maps.  
“-this will be our safest bet for the time being, at least until we have received word from our sources-“  
“Have you received any word?” Washington had entered the room silently, the others standing and lowering their head in respect at the highest ranking general the country would ever see.  
“We have scouts in the northern states, word has yet to come back of any sightings at our safe sites in Boston, Philadelphia-“  
“New York was clear as of midnight just gone, but there’s been silence since then” André’s jaw tensed, Hamilton turning to glance at him.  
“Who was your man in New York?”  
“A Nobody”  
Which meant it was definitely someone. Someone that could cause concern. Washington sat and began to look over the papers in front of him, everyone else taking their seats and continuing their reading or- in my case, waiting for a task. Yet whilst I waited, I watched André who had yet to stop fidgeting after his answer as to where his intel was coming from and who. He was hiding something.  
“-Miss Harrison-“  
“Hmm?”  
“I asked how are you this morning after the events of last night?”  
My palm seemed suddenly pressed against the mug I held, as if I was being interrogated.  
“Well enough”  
“Perhaps you would care to regale us with how you have spent your time over the years?”  
He wanted to see if I had behave myself, kept my head down and ensured that there was no way a mortal would know who I was. It was a delicate matter that needed to be handled with a severe hand if someone had betrayed the truth behind us. Force of habit for a man who spent the greater parts of his years as the head of a war and intelligence circles.  
“There is nothing to tell. Perhaps you could all inform me where you were all those years that I thought myself alone”  
Work ceased from all men. Their eyes lifting to look at me, as a dog does when its caught pissing on the house rug. Washington was the only one who seemed to hold his composure at the accusation, André somewhat immune given that he had heard nothing else since his re-arrival.  
“It is with regret that we maintained our cover, you must understand that there are things that even now remain hidden and under the strictest confidence. They cannot be revealed to the world-“  
“I am not the world, I am part of this world- the same world you are keeping from them you are keeping from me. All due respect Sir, I maintained the secrecy of what we are, I watched the world pass by and maintained the secret. Yet even now I find that there are secrets that I am unaware of- the fact you were all remaining being the main matter. Yet now, despite your claim to have to maintain secrets even from me, I find myself sat at the table employed one more in warfare.”  
Silence remained in the room, the men looking round to the elder awaiting his response, which he seemed to be weighing with great consideration.  
“I am sure that Mr Hamilton informed you of the basics of the current situation-“  
“I accept them-“  
“Then until you are required to know more, you will have to settle for your lot Miss Harris- Marquis-“  
So the conversation continued. 

The night was dark. Darker than a normal night, this was a winters night. When the light of the moon seems nothing more than a fleck of candlelight down a long corridor. The fires pitiful resistance against the bitter winter fingers of winds that crept through the camp, like a spectre that crept out from the depths of the trees. Dragging its limbs along, peering into the tents or wooden shacks and wrapping those frozen fingers round their throats. Snow knee deep, more falling continuously from the sky and smothering all heat that may have been found. Blankets few and far between, supplies gone. Congress refusing. Men with toes as black as the night with frost bite. Dismal. Morning would come and men would be frozen where they sat. January. That was the month of the two-day blizzard, four feet of snow piled up and covering the land as if trying to erase any presence of the soldiers. André. He was dead by that point, well that’s what was believed. He wouldn’t have known. He wouldn’t have seen it.   
IT was morning, yet the light was dense as if it was still night. No one had stirred, the snow was untouched, and the fires were mere flickers as they’d been left unattended. I’d left the house for a reason- there was a noise. I’d heard something. Yet when I reached the camp there was silence. Nothing stirred, not even the creatures in the trees. It was as if the whole camp had died in the night- or we had somehow been transported to a plain of purgatory, the heaviness and dull light pressing down as I fought my way through the snow. I should have turned back- yelled for someone or asked for the men on watch to accompany me. Yet I remained silent. As if all noise was gone and my throat sealed. I didn’t know where I was heading, just followed my feet. It was muffled, the noise I heard that turned my attention towards one of the huts on the outskirts of the encampment. Despite the cold, my forehead beaded with a cold sweat and the thudding of my heart in my ears became almost deafening. I should have run, I should have got them, but I just walked. Followed the noise until I came to the side of one of the huts and there led in the snow were a pair of frost-bitten feet. Blackened and bleeding from the dead flesh that led to the tattered uniform and legs that had thinned thanks to the lack of provisions. They were dead. I was pretty sure of that. Yet their legs were twitching, shifting the snow where they lay as if in a fretful sleep. I should have run. I knew something was wrong, I could sense it in the air, but I couldn’t stop myself. I followed trouble and it followed me.   
He was dead. I knew he was dead. But there was someone over him, leaning over his chest like a mourning lover. But it was so much more sinister than that. The only love I saw, was the love for the rotting corpse of the soldier beneath- what was it? It looked so human but there was cloudiness in its eyes. It heard me- it looked at me and the soldier beneath its arms lay staring at me with fear filled eyes- it had killed him. This human like creature whose mouth spilled with the dead blood of its victim. It stared at me, no longer interested in the corpse. I should have run. But I just stood and watched. It leapt and-  
“Anriette wake up”  
I woke suddenly, already feeling the clamminess on my skin as I looked round and realised, I was in a car. When had we left? I was sure we had just been sat round the dining room table.   
“No, we haven’t been there for a day now. We thought it best if we moved to a different location”  
But we were in a car.  
“We thought it best if we travelled round for a day or so, throw whoever was waiting for us off our trail-“  
“When did you become a bloody mind reader?” I snapped, turning to see André beside me. Hamilton was in the back, working away on something. Gilbert was driving, Washington beside him and each looked back at me in turn. We were driving along a forest path, so like the ones we had become used to when trying to hide or moving people.   
“Bad dream?”  
“It’s nothing”  
It was something. Overall, I remembered the events of the war clearly. Precisely, because at the time it had called for a high level of attention to ensure nothing went wrong. But every now and then, I would be caught unaware by a dream or a flash of a memory that I couldn’t place. This was one of those moments and the worst of it all was that it had to do with the dead walkers we had been attacked by. Which in turn meant it was something to do with Arnold.   
We drove for another hour, round the forest tracks passing relatively no one else before we stopped. When I looked, we had parked beside a camping site, filled with families and people enjoying the pieces of nature in the otherwise concrete world.   
“Funny isn’t it? They’re going about their lives, completely unaware that there’s an entirely different world surrounding them. That we are stood right here, watching”  
“That doesn’t sound horrific at all Hamilton, why don’t you just walk over and stun them all”  
The dream still had me cranky, thinking over the details, trying to remember what happened once the creature had jumped.  
“You never kept anything from me before A. Don’t think you have to start now”  
“This is something entirely different”  
“Different never stopped you”  
Sighing, I looked round and saw he was watching the camp again as we leant again the car. Despite what history may have thrown around about him, Hamilton was a family man. He loved his kids, loved his wife. He made mistakes. Monumental mistakes. But he never stopped loving his kids. I could see it in his eyes, the distant smile of memories of his own, the time he had spent in their nursery or sitting at the piano with his daughter. But behind it was the emptiness of longing, the sorrow of losing his son, leaving them behind. He inhaled and turned away, yeah, it hurt.   
“We’ve got a while to wait though A, if you want to talk then now is the time”  
I shook my head, gulping down the remains of my water and walking over to the disposal unit and leaving Hamilton with the car. The others had gone to collect some supplies from the small camp store that lay at the bottom of the hill near the lake. I had no idea where we were, but I assumed we had either remained in Virginia or managed to leave state via the back roads. I was sure that would tell me when they felt the need to.  
Throwing my bottle into the camp disposal, I turned around to take in the view. Through the picket line of thick trees, I could see the glistening surface of the lake, it was calm despite the colder weather and there was a winter sun that shone over its depths. It was places like that I missed, the ability to leave your residence and walk a few minutes before you found yourself surrounded by trees and emptiness. You could have walked for days and not come across single other soul in those havens of trees. I missed that.   
“Excuse me”  
“Yes” I answered, but my mind was still wondering back through the memories of walking through the trees, away from the city or the camp.  
“Excuse me”  
Slightly irritated at the interruption, I turned my attention to the voice beside me and felt my body become rigid. Cloudy eyes and a malicious grin met me.  
“Wh-what do you want? You shouldn’t be here-“  
“A note. From the General. You best watch your back-“  
“This isn’t possible! You shouldn’t be here- you died!”  
She grinned again. The old face of my bawd from York City. Molly Brown. Hair matted, eyes clouded white, teeth blackened as she stood beside and pruned herself as if she didn’t realise, she was a corpse walking. Chuckling as she had done in a mocking tone, her face suddenly fell. All expression gone and the leathery, grey skin seemed thick and draped.   
“You killed me you mean”  
“No. No.”  
“Your time is running out”  
“You died. I know you were dead”  
“I told you”  
My hand began to reach behind me, trying to find something that I could grab. She took a step forward.   
“I warned you, baby girl, secrets never stay hidden. Now you’re gonna have to answer for what you’ve done”  
“I did nothing- I did nothing wrong, I did what I had to survive-“  
“He’s coming for you.”  
Still my hand scrambled behind me, feeling round the large disposal bins as Molly walked towards me and I staggered back.  
“They’re going to know all about your secrets, all about what you did…and you know what that means don’t you, baby girl?”  
“Leave me alone, you’re not doing this again-“  
There. A plank of wood.  
“You’re going to die baby girl, your time is coming…and so is his-“  
“LEAVE ME ALONE!”  
I swung the plank at her head but instead of hearing the crack as it hit her skull, I heard the heavy metallic ring as it hit the side of the bins and the gasps of the shocked camp inhabitants. The plank splintered and spun away, landing away from me as I held the remainder of the wood in my hands and looked up. She was gone- she hadn’t been there. But she’d been stood in front of me, I’d been able to smell her lavender perfume. Now all I saw were the concerned looks of parents as they beckoned their children towards them, away from the woman who had just hit a bin with a plank of wood whilst yelling to be left alone.  
“A? Anriette!” Hamilton was beside me, his arms coming around me as he pulled the wood from my hands and dropped it onto the ground. I stared at their faces, saw the fear in their eyes as they began to stand and gather like a mob.  
“Anriette, we need to move, now”  
His hands were firm as they pulled me up and directed me back up the slope towards the car, nodding his apologies to people as we walked.  
“What happened?” the others were back at the car, they’d heard me yell and watched as Hamilton ran toward me.  
“We need to leave”  
He put me in the car, everyone else clambering in as Hamilton climbed into the drivers seat and we were moving within moments. Where the hell did they learn to drive- what a random thought but it was those kind of intrusive thoughts that brought me round from whatever it was that had just happened.  
“What did you see?”  
André whispered to me, Gilbert now in the back where Hamilton had been sat previously- good thing some genius came with up with the idea of off road cars with big boots and fold down chairs. Genius.   
“Anriette-“  
“Where are we going?”  
“To one of the safe houses, we can stay there for longer than if we returned to one of the cities. We need time to collect ourselves and wait for others”  
Of course there was more than just us.   
They carried on with their chat, my mind drifting in and out as I gazed out the window and saw the trees blurring by. It had to be because I’d hit my head, there was no way that I had seen her. She was dead, I had seen her die.  
“We’re here”  
It was a cabin. A large wooden construction of two floors. Hidden in an alcove of trees and sat on a hill that look down on the campsite that was at the bottom of the hill we had driven up. Inside was the first level, walking through the front door led to a small hallway, a door on the right before a flight of four steps led down a corridor and out into the large room that held the open plan kitchen and living room. The entire left side wall made of glass that looked out onto the lake and down the hill. Large, comfortable leather chairs sat in front of the coal fire, a matching couch sitting between them. The fireplace, grey stone of some kind, was framed with alcoves that held shelves filled with books. A faded red decorative rug lined the marble floor and held a dark wood coffee table. The kitchen units were a dark green, a marble topped island serving as the only divider between the kitchen and living area. The remaining units formed an upside-down L, the sink sitting against the wall where the large windows began. It was small but filled the space like some grand house kitchen. The room lay on the left and then it continued further down, four more steps and led to a bathroom on the left, another door on the right. The final door in front opened into the master bedroom, a large circular room with a large bed and a bathroom tucked into the corner. The floor and walls were marble with windows running the entirety of the room at the top of the walls before cascading down to double doors that opened onto a porch area and led directly down to the lake. It seemed like it would be dark and yet light flooded through and filled the room.   
“This is the opposite of what I expected when I saw a wooden cabin, usually its wooden floors and moths. Not marble and glass”  
“This is not a normal cabin cherie, you should know that by now” Gilbert teased, placing another of the supply boxes down onto the island as I stood in the centre. Hamilton was setting up the various pieces of equipment he had brought on the coffee table. Washington and André had disappeared into the master bedroom.  
“How is your arm? It will need changing again soon”  
In all the confusion, I had forgotten about my arm. Yet at Gilbert’s mention, it began to sting as if suddenly reminding me that it was indeed still there.  
“It’s fine” I lied. By now it should have been healed, yet I could feel the heat radiating from it still. He wasn’t convinced, his brow furrowed as he unpacked the bags and placed them in the cabinets. Clearly, we were intending to be here for some time.   
“You know amie, you can talk to me. We once had many hours of conversations-“  
“You and Hammy, you been talking about me again?”  
He smirked, amused. That was the thing with Gilbert, he was always positive, even taking a moment of sass and accusation in a light-hearted manner.   
“Perhaps we are simply still continuing the wager as to who is your favourite”   
I smiled, thankful that he was here. My eyes suddenly watering with a flurry of emotion at seeing him again.  
“Amie, why the tears? What is this”  
I shook my head, pressing my sleeves over my eyes. Emotions were not something I dealt with well, yet for the past couple days emotion was all I seemed to have. Ups and downs, panicking, angry and now weepy at seeing my friend after centuries of thinking him and the others dead.  
“Its nothing, its-“  
But before I could push it away and walk outside, I found his arms round me and my own returning the favour. I stood there, feeling him holding me close and the hotness as tears ran down my face. Overwhelmed.   
“I missed you cherie, do not think I wished to hide from you but there are things that we must sacrifice for a greater cause. You know better than most this truth, no?”  
I didn’t want to speak, if I spoke in that moment then it would be a case of emotional rambles. I simply held him tighter and felt him sigh as he rested his cheek on my head.  
“I know your anger, I see it but you know that if you had really needed us we would have been there”  
I had needed them. I had needed them so many times and not once had they appeared. Yet they were here, now.  
“Is there any chance of getting past without disturbing this touching moment” Hamilton walked his way past us and caused us to break apart,   
“He is definitely jealous no?”  
Smirking I wiped my eyes and nodded as Gilbert brushed my hair back and nodded, satisfied I was all right.   
“Wait” senses now returning after the clearing of a momentary pang of tears, I realised we had food.  
“We don’t need this-“  
“We have someone coming to work with us. They’re mortal”  
“We have mortals wrapped up in this now? You really think that’s a good idea?”   
“Well” Hamilton was finishing where Gilbert had left as I took a seat at the island and watched them both,  
“Take it up with the boss, it was his idea. Thinks it’s good for us to have someone from that side of life-“  
“That’s practically me, I can do that”  
“That’s what I said, but he didn’t listen. You know how he did that nodding and then would do the opposite anyway”  
Humming I handed them another bag. There was clearly something bigger that Washington had in mind, that’s why Hamilton had left it as quickly as he did without arguing his point further.   
The sunset was beautiful, a wash of pink and orange that spread across the sky and brought with it the chill night breeze. Snow was on its way, no doubt there were some places that were already under. But for that moment, it was clear and the animals that were not in hibernation were beginning to sing their nightly chorus. Word had been received that if the weather remained clear, we would be joined in the next couple days, from there we would begin to scope out the areas we knew contained the dead walkers.   
“There are things we need, documents, intelligence that will help us understand what must be done. For now, we continue to maintain our silence and bide our time”  
It all sounded like some mystic crap you read in a historical fiction, but then I reasoned, we were walking proof of that mystic crap.   
“You plan on staying out here all night? Last I remember you didn’t like the dark”  
“No, I like the dark, I just don’t trust the people who live in the dark”  
Call that experience.   
André stood beside me, watching the sun setting and having finished his meeting with Washington. It always amazed me how the world could change and yet the sun, the moon and sky remained the same.   
“Why don’t you talk to me about what happened earlier-“  
“It’s nothing- it must be when I hit my head- how long was I sleeping in the car?”  
“That might be something you can get away with saying with people, but not with me. That wasn’t nothing-“  
“How long was I asleep?”  
He seemed confused, as if it was a trick question as I waited for his answer and received none. Sighing, I began to walk along the decking and towards the stairs that led down to a decked platform that looked out to the trees and lake. Taking a seat on the built-in couch, I waited for him to join before looking round to him.  
“I know you’re keeping something from me André, I’ve accepted that, but something is wrong and I can’t keep being left out of the loop”  
He continued watching the trees, searching them as if making sure we were alone before he turned to me.  
“You were asleep for two days, we were sat at the dinning table back at Vernon and you glazed over. We didn’t think much of it, just that your head injury must still be healing. You were up, responded to us and then when we got in the car you were gone. You slept without moving for two days”  
I figured it had been that, but hearing something you suspect always makes it feel worse and removes none of the shock.  
“Now, you tell me, what did you see back down at the camp”  
A deal is a deal. He would have figured it out in the end anyway.  
“Molly Brown”  
He knew her well, but just as I said, you can suspect it but hearing it never removes the shock you feel when its confirmed.  
“Molly Brown…she’s-“  
“Dead- trust me, I know that, she looked it. But she was there, I could smell her perfume”  
“What did she want?”  
“…to tell me my time was coming- she gave me a note”  
I reached inside my pocket on my coat but felt nothing, it was gone, or it had never been there. André watched me search before I looked back round to him, for once he looked sympathetic as I shook my head in confusion.  
“She told me it was from the General”  
“You know as well as I do that she never had anything to do with the General-“  
“She meant Arnold”  
Now the wind seemed to become even colder. The noise of the animals became louder as if hearing the name sent out a flurry of panic.  
“Why would Molly Brown be delivering a note from him- a note to you?”  
I remained silent. Looking up from the small ants that wrestled on the table in front of me and looking round to André, his face stern as he tried to link the two together.  
“Anriette what’s wrong?”  
“Shit I’m crying again-“  
“What’s going on- you know don’t you. You know what this has to do with?”  
“It was never meant to be known- it was meant to die with her, that was why I did it-“  
“Did what? Anriette what are you not telling me-“  
“I can’t-“  
“Anriette!” his hand caught my wrist as I stood to leave, to run and keep running until I couldn’t anymore. But he stopped me, held me there.  
“What happened- what is this all about?”  
“Please, let me go”  
“Molly Brown came to you- you saw her, she said she had a note from him. What does that mean- what has this got to do with?”  
“Our son!”


	6. One hour is Ten days

Just as quick as the sun had been setting, it was rising once more. André had been gone for one day and a night, just walked off into the trees without another word said between us.   
“Where would he go? You think he’s gone rouge-“  
“He’ll be back. Just be grateful he didn’t start drinking like he did when he lost Peggy” I smiled, attempting to lighten the mood with humour.   
“…you didn’t need to tell him A.”  
“I had no choice, if Molly is involved with Arnold, he would have found out from them. Better it came from me. Least now the only irrational thing he can do is be angry with me”  
“Or go after them”  
“No, he won’t. I’m just sorry I had to involve you in this Hammy, that was never my intention”  
Hamilton smiled sympathetically, pouring us both another coffee as we sat at the island in the early hours of the morning. An old habit and comfort. Gilbert and Washington had gone to the camp store to collect the post that they had been waiting for and André, well André was somewhere, and I had been wondering the cabin like a phantom in a castle.   
“Did you at least tell him what she did to you-“  
“He doesn’t need to be told that, he had been using the girls from her bawd for years by the time he met me. He knew Molly Brown and what she was capable of. He thought by taking the girls from her, getting them to spy for him, he was giving them a chance. No one could ever have fully imagined just how deprived the woman was. Those girls never stood a chance”  
“But at least he would understand better the reason for why-“  
“What reason can possibly make what I did better? I killed our son. I did that. Surely you can understand his anger Hammy? Even if he didn’t ever see his son, it’s still his child- his legacy. Surely you understand that?”  
He smiled sympathetically again, his hand clasped my own as he sat opposite me and looked for the right thing to say.   
“I think that there are secrets kept for the benefit of others, and some kept out of shame. Molly Brown kept secrets to benefit herself and to shame you”  
“Perhaps”

That day was nothing but rain. Rain and thunder. No snow. The trees- now branches and spindles of their usual self, glistened with the rain like jewels had been suspended and caught the low light. The sound of rain hitting the wood decking and glass was a therapeutic, continuous rhythm as I sat watching it all unfold from a chair in front of the windows in the living area. Hammy had been working on the correspondence- that included maps and letters. The thrilling things that kept life turning. I had asked if needed help, but he had smiled, that was all I needed to know. There were clearly things in there I wasn’t meant to know or see. Instead, I had resigned myself to the chair and watching the rain, waiting to see if André would come walking through the rain and wanting to talk.   
“They’re on their way back, should be twenty minutes”  
“Mmm”  
“We have a visitor as well-“  
“The mortal- that’s so pretentious-“  
“Yes”  
I merely hummed again and let my head fall back against the chair, Hamilton behind me as he poured the now cold coffee into the sink.   
“Any sign?”  
“I wasn’t looking for him”  
Liar.  
He did me the favour of merely laughing and ruffling my hair as he walked back to his work, by which point I was half way to sleep, my eyes heavy and a burning in my arm. 

It had been raining. There was a hole in the roof, it had been there for as long as I could remember and would always drip consistently on the unfortunate girl that had found herself stuffed into the room and forgotten about. It had been so quiet, so unusual for the daytime when the troops coming off the night patrol would be passing by and ‘paying a visit’. I had crossed lines to come back when I had realised that she had taken him. I was sure that if she caught me, she would do all that she could to see me in irons and on the end of a noose. That would have been the ultimate justice for her. Watching me swing.   
There was no one. Nothing. I walked round without encountering a single other soul and I knew I should have turned and run, that something was wrong. But I kept walking until I reached the room that had been my home for so long. She had never liked me, not like the others. I brought her trouble and caused it, she loathed me for it. Yet she kept me there until I decided I would take his offer. After that it became personal beyond all recognition, I had given it. I should have known, I should have left but he was in there, I knew that’s where he would be. I could hear him calling for me, to come and take him away. To save him.   
It went silent. He didn’t call for me anymore, just led there silent.  
“What have you done?!”  
So I silenced her too.

The burning was intense. I could feel it radiating through me as my consciousness began to increase and my eyes opened again suddenly. The rain was heavier than before- had I fallen asleep? A rarity despite how it might appear.   
“You were talking-“  
“Liar”  
I pulled my arm away from Hammy’s grasp, standing up and feeling the burning continue even as his hand came away. It shouldn’t still be burning; it was meant to have he-  
“Tallmadge? Wait…he’s the mortal?”  
Uneasiness suddenly fell on their faces. Tallmadge looked to Washington whose gaze was focused squarely on me,   
“She…she doesn’t know-“  
“We reasoned that we would wait until you were here-“  
“Wait for what?”  
I looked between the three suspects.  
“Oh I see, another one of those secrets that I’m not allowed to know- welcome to espionage again Tallmadge, only difference is it’s the inner circle this time-“  
“It’s not that simple-“  
“I think it is that simple, Sir”  
Washington’s hardened gaze fell on me as I very consciously spat the word sir out with sarcasm. Tallmadge shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable as he had put the pieces together. The other two remained quiet, a smart move.   
“Perhaps” Tallmadge started quietly,   
“Now is the best time Sir, this is only going to get worse and we need everyone to be on the same page”  
Silence fell once more, the rain suddenly becoming deafening as we all stood in a stale mate waiting for someone to speak first.   
“We’re one short-“  
“André still hasn’t shown-“  
“Then we wait for him to return”  
“Bold of you to assume he will” scoffing I walked through the group, heading for the stairs that led to the higher level and my designated room. 

From there I had a panoramic view of the surrounding forest and down to the river. It was a square room, simplistic in its decoration. Nothing but glass windows for walls, another door that led into the bathroom, a bed, a large body cushion and my bag sat in the corner. It was the least extravagant but had the best views and I had willingly taken it. I’d sat the cushion facing the connecting point of the glass and that’s where I sat myself down. The sky was grey and heavy, the rain falling like shards of glass through the carpet of trees. Somewhere out there, André was walking round like the dramatic, romantic fool he liked to consider himself. Drenched from the rain, like an Austen or Byronic hero who would appear on the door to declare his soul searched truth. Ridiculous. The man had been the head of intelligence! Keeping a level head in shocking situations was the one thing I thought I could rely on him to still be able to do. Clearly not. It’s not like I’d revealed he had a child- something he had been sure was an impossibility thanks to various other factors. A child that had then died…thanks to me. Nothing too hard to handle at all. Shit I could be a hardcore bitch sometimes. I’d have been impressed with myself in any other moment. But not then. I felt anything but that- especially as I felt myself wince at the spike of pain in my arm. I pulled the jumper over my head, pulling my good arm free and carefully peeling the other sleeve off my right arm and already able to see that I had bled through the bandages.   
“What the hell is happening?”  
I don’t pride myself on how many times I had been able to get myself shot but considering that it had been an occurrence in my many years, I knew how quickly I healed. By a week it was nothing more than an angry red line that then faded into silver and was another scar to add to the collection. But this was bleeding and heavily. As I unpeeled the bandages, fresh blood dripped down my arm and the heat radiated from the wound.   
“Ah shit”  
It was infected. That had never happened before. Blood had coagulated into solid masses that were almost black in colour, the redness had spread from the shot wound and was beginning to appear further down.   
“Not good”  
Washing it out as best I could in the bathroom was painful, clumps came away and the line where the shot had grazed me had widened. My reasoning fell on keeping the same bandages on for nearly five days. That was the only logical reason I could place on why it had happened. I don’t know if I’m the only one, but when I’m doing something as mundane as rinsing the sink of my blood, my mind travels through different thoughts before zoning in on a single one.  
“Tallmadge is mortal!”  
It was no surprise anymore that there were more of them around, I expected the whole army to walk through the door at some point. But Tallmadge looked the same as…well, when we had been at war. That meant he was the same, but how could he be mortal and still be alive?  
It played on my mind for the next two hours. Back and forth over possibilities. Reasoning that there had been to be something obvious I was missing, or they were simply passing it off as truth to hide something else from me. The longer I stayed in my room, the door locked, the deeper into paranoia and conspiracy I became. Unaware of everything else that was going on around me or the cause.  
“A, its me”  
What did he want? I’d told him I didn’t want to talk. The fact the door was locked should have told him that.  
“A come on; we need you to come out. André is back”  
Bastard. He leaves for a couple days and returns like it’s no big deal. I remained led on my bed, the blanket over my head, arm freshly bandaged from being washed. It was silent, peaceful before there was another knock. It rattled in my ears, my eyes screwing up as I winced at the loudness that echoed in my ears.  
“Cherie?”  
Gilbert? Had he and Hammy joined forces behind the door in the hopes I’d listen to at least one of them.  
“Anriette you need to come out”  
I couldn’t be mad with Gilbert; he had the best intentions in many situations. No doubt Hammy had been stood there scowling that he was being ignored and told Gilbert to see if he could get a reaction.  
Another knock.  
“It’s been five days”  
Five days? No. I’d only come up to my room three hours ago, I knew that. I was disappointed that Gilbert had decided to try those kinds of tricks on me. He was better than that.   
Another knock, this time more persistent.   
“Miss Harris”  
Washington.  
“Miss Harris, I insist you open this door. André is downstairs. We are all waiting for you so we can begin our planning”  
Silence.   
“Anriette”  
He rarely called me that, preferring official titles.  
“Anriette, it has been ten days-“  
Bullshit! Ten days had not passed, and I’d had enough. Throwing the blanket back was harder than I’d anticipated, clearly, I’d been led on it for too long and it had gone numb. But everything felt heavy. It must have been evening, the room was dark. See, I knew they were lying. It had only been a couple of hours. I swung my legs round and as I stood, I fell flat on the floor with a heavy thud. What the hell was happening? Everything ached, burned as I tried to push myself up but all I could manage was to pull myself along the floor and crawl. Had they turned the temperature up? My skin was slick with sweat and I could feel the hair at the nape of my neck sticking to me.   
“Bastards”  
Speaking was a mistake. Hoarse and barely coherent, I felt my throat lurch and a hot liquid spill from my mouth onto the carpet beneath me. It tasted bitter, metallic and was warm as it spattered my hand and I coughed to get it out my mouth. At that point, it became clear something was wrong. I needed to get to the door.

The carpet was coarse against my skin as I slid my shins and knees across it, coughing still and feel the bitter taste in the back of my throat each time I breathed. That hurt. Chest heaving, rattling with each inward breath I took. I was close, I could see the handle shining in the dim light and then came the thud. It sounded like a fist against the door.  
“P-please…he…help”  
The thud came again. Loud. Echoing and yet silence followed it.  
“Ham…Gi- help”  
A third thud against the door that now shook in its frame. But the thuds didn’t stop. They carried on louder and louder until they sounded like canon fire. The same that had been a constant all those years ago.   
“Wh-“  
It was no longer a thudding alone. Yells. Screams. The sound of dying people filled the darkness. The call to charge, the sound of crunching bones as bodies were hit with musket balls. Wails as limbs were removed by canon balls. The sound of sabres slicing through flesh as the pounding of hooves rode past them. The shaking door illuminated by fire from behind, smoke filtering through the cracks as I lay covering my ears trying to make it stop. Louder and louder, crowding over one another in a chorus of war before the final thud of canon and the fire was gone.   
Silence.  
I couldn’t control the shaking as I stared into the darkness once more. Lowering my shaking hands, I reached for the bed frame and began to pull myself up with so much effort I began to sweat even more, swallowing a scream at the pain my arm and the heat as blood fell from the opened wound. As I continued to pull myself up, I heard the door unlock. The lock screeching and grating as it turned, and the handle was pushed down before the door flung open with a suddenness. Thudding as it hit the wall but did not shake, merely froze in place and revealed the darkened hallway. So black and empty I was sure no source of light could illuminate it. Trembling, grasping to the frame, I heard something stir within the darkness. It sounded like boots. Distinct thuds of boots on wooden flooring, dull and heavy that were then dragged. They came closer before the doorway was filled with a shadow being who stood out against the darkness.   
“No. Please. No”  
I couldn’t see their face, yet the distinct fear of who they were filled my entire being. Their contorted form mangled and broken swayed as their hands reached out and grasped the doorframe.  
“Please….no….it…it wasn’t my….”  
But nothing stopped them. Their lurching body staggered forward and caused me to step back, clawing at the bed frame and trying to stay up right.   
“Please! Please! It wasn’t…I didn’t-“  
Still they came forward, cracking bones and the smell of rotting flesh. I tried to get away, tried to hold them off and make them see sense but they came toward me and just as they reached to grab me I fell.   
It was raining. It was dark. I was in the forest. The back of my head throbbing with the same intensity as my arm as I stared up at the trees, blinded by the rain as my eyes began to close and the world was still once more.


End file.
